Inside the ship, the air still carried an edge of tension.
Lance stood with Grogu in his arms, R4 at his feet, the cockpit at his back.
Across from him stood the Bad Batch and the Cut family, an invisible line drawn between the two groups like a river neither side had crossed yet.
Only Omega stood somewhere in the middle of it, working through an explanation about the inhibitor chip.
“Those troopers, back at the Temple, they didn’t choose to do what they did.”
Lance had heard his Master mention the chip once before, though only in passing, and even Plo Koon hadn’t seemed entirely sure what it actually did.
He kept his eyes on her.
“Keep going.”
Omega took a breath and pressed on.
“Every clone trooper gets one implanted at birth.
Once a specific command triggers it, their behavior changes.
Forced, not chosen.”
“Order 66 was one of those commands.”
Something dimmed in her expression.
“The troopers who turned on the Jedi, they didn’t really betray anyone.
They just lost the ability to choose.”
Lance’s eyes narrowed slightly.
She glanced at Hunter and the others before continuing.
“Most troopers can’t resist it at all.
The chip takes over completely, even rewrites their memory of it afterward.
Even if part of them knows something’s wrong, there’s nothing they can do to stop it.”
“These four are different, though.” She gestured toward the squad.
“They were built with genetic variations from the start.
Those same ‘flaws’ are exactly what keeps the chip from taking full hold.”
“Except Echo.”
She nodded toward a thin, pale-faced trooper with metal discs fitted along both sides of his skull and a mechanical right arm.
“His chip was removed entirely.
Nothing left in him for Order 66 to reach.”
Lance stayed quiet for a long moment, hand tightening around his hilt as he thought back to every Jedi he’d watched fall to trooper fire.
The Force confirmed it, plainly.
Every word she’d said was true.
Even so.
Forced or not, the damage was already done, and it couldn’t be undone.
At the next encounter, it would still come down to a fight to the death.
He studied Hunter and the rest, something conflicted behind his eyes.
After a while, he clipped his hilt back to his belt, though the wariness didn’t fully leave him.
“You four might not be under its control, but I’d still get that thing removed the first chance you get.”
Tech pushed his glasses up, tone measured.
“Agreed.
We’re unaffected right now, but there’s no guarantee that stays true forever.
Removing it, given the opportunity, would be the safer bet by far.”
Wrecker reached up and touched his own forehead uncertainly.
“So what, we’re supposed to just crack our own skulls open?”
Echo answered flatly.
“That’s generally how it’s done, yeah.”
Wrecker grunted.
“Easy for you to say.”
Hunter spread his hands, a little helpless.
“We can’t exactly go back to Kamino for the equipment either.”
Nobody had a good answer for that.
The room went quiet again, though the tension had eased a fair amount by now.
Omega’s attention drifted to Grogu, curiosity lighting up her face.
“He’s so cute.
What’s his name?”
One look at him and she was already halfway won over, eyes practically sparkling as she stepped forward.
“Stop.” Lance’s voice cut in.
He could feel her good intentions plainly enough, but that didn’t erase his caution entirely.
Hunter and the others tensed right along with him, worried about what might happen if things went sideways.
Omega froze mid-step, glancing at Lance with a flicker of nerves, before her attention snapped straight back to Grogu regardless.
“Poot.”
Rather than shy away, Grogu reached a small hand toward her, clearly more interested in her than worried about anything else.
Lance followed his gaze and realized what had actually caught his attention: the headpiece she wore.
An oval ornament set with a pale grey gemstone, carved with fine detail, elegant enough to be worth quite a lot.
Not that Grogu cared about its value.
He just liked things that sparkled.
Lance gently pushed the reaching hand back down.
“That belongs to someone else. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
You can’t have it.”
Grogu shook his head and reached again.
“Ya ya.”
Omega blinked, touching the ornament on her own forehead, the one Nala Se had given her.
She pointed to it, uncertain.
“You want this?”
Grogu nodded eagerly, still reaching.
“Poot.”
Something reluctant flickered across her face, but she unclasped it anyway and held it out on her palm.
“If you like it that much, it’s yours.”
“Poot!”
A small ripple of the Force pulsed from Grogu, and the ornament lifted gently off her hand, drifting into his grip.
Omega’s eyes went wide, caught off guard all over again by that same strange power, curiosity blooming right alongside the shock.
Is that what Jedi can do?
How does that even work?
She’d grown up entirely on Kamino, and Nala Se had mentioned once that a Jedi Master lived somewhere in the facility, though Omega had never once been allowed to meet him, or told anything about what a Jedi could actually do.
Every question she’d asked got brushed aside.
Lance, meanwhile, had already sensed something substantial stirring inside Grogu, a well of Force far deeper than the small trickle he was currently able to draw on.
Probably just age, he guessed.
Too young yet to command that much of it.
He watched Grogu play, shaking his head with quiet affection, the tension in the room finally breaking under the sound of the kid’s laughter.
The Bad Batch let out a collective breath they hadn’t realized they were holding, whatever worry had been sitting in their chests finally settling.
Jedi carried a mixed reputation, sure, but a young one who clearly doted on a kid this much wasn’t likely to turn around and hurt Omega.
Suu crossed her arms, a soft, motherly smile tugging at her mouth, and nudged Cut with her elbow.
The two of them traded a glance, both thinking of their own kids at that same age, just as impossible to resist.
Lance caught the warmth radiating from all of them, and whatever caution he’d been holding onto eased back considerably.
Grogu kept cooing over his new prize, utterly delighted.
Watching him, Omega felt something in her chest loosen, the ache of leaving Kamino and Nala Se behind thinning out like it had been washed over with something warm.
She worked up the nerve to step forward again, braced for another rebuke, and was pleasantly surprised when none came.
A wide, happy smile spread across her face instead.
“Don’t waste any more time.
Get this thing started and get us out of here.”
Lance pulled his attention off her and looked toward the rest of the squad.
Hunter shook his head.
“Not yet.”